


The Fang

by lq_traintracks (lumosed_quill), traintracks



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, M/M, Rimming, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-16
Updated: 2013-01-16
Packaged: 2018-01-07 02:23:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1114390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lumosed_quill/pseuds/lq_traintracks, https://archiveofourown.org/users/traintracks/pseuds/traintracks





	The Fang

**Author's Note:**

  * For [secretsolitaire](https://archiveofourown.org/users/secretsolitaire/gifts).



All through dinner, Charlie stared at it, at him. It was agonizing. Months away and then they're all just supposed to have the wonky family dinner, supposed to be brothers first, supposed to resist combustion.

Charlie knows a lot about combustion. He knows heat and scars and rough men in the dead of night, high on danger.

He knows no one will ever replace his brother.

He knows he can hardly wait, watching it dangle there, a flashing silver taunt, the white of it glinting in the candlelight, the wink of a cruel smile.

The twins are stuffed in with Ron and Harry, so he and Bill have the room to themselves. The first thing Bill does is Silence it. This does something to Charlie, to his idea of Bill, of them -- that Bill remembers, that Bill has been waiting too, that Bill still wants him.

Charlie undresses. Bill gets his cock out. Charlie sucks it on his knees in the dark. He takes the thick shaft as far back as he can. He's missed the smell of his brother's musk. Just when Charlie's jaw starts to ache, and he wants Bill to come in his mouth so badly he feels almost faint, Bill growls, "Bed," and Charlie sucks off, kissing the crown in sloppy parting, and crawls up on the bed. Bill handles his body like it's a thing, easily, and he gets Charlie's arse in the air and starts to rim him like he's starved for the taste.

That's when he first feels it, tickling along his arse cheek, cool and impersonal even as Bill's hot tongue forces its way inside him. Charlie likes his brother like this: reckless and demanding. He likes that, for whatever reason, Bill needs it as bad as he does. He didn't even take the time to tie his hair back, and Charlie likes that – loves the soft caress of it even as Bill grunts and pulls Charlie's hole open with his thumbs and fucks his tongue in and out and sucks at the hole and groans while he does it. Charlie's eye flutter closed on the feel of his brother's groan vibrating against him.

And all the while there's that annoying little decoration, a new piece of Bill Charlie hasn't explored yet, and he wonders who has.

Bill tells him his arse was made to be eaten. He doesn't often talk while they do this, so the sound of his voice is an unexpected jolt. Charlie wants to touch himself. But he wants something else even more.

It takes him a moment to push Bill off and wiggle away. Bill's hands tighten down on Charlie's hips first in protest, his muffled grunt of frustration making him sound like a beast and Charlie loves it. Charlie almost doesn't stop him. He almost just leaves his brother to it and thinks he could happily give up his entire tonight to Bill's mouth, his tongue, his possessive hands and rough sounds.

But he remembers the earring. He remembers what he wants more than anything, and he manages to get Bill to back off just long enough to flip himself over onto his back. He starts tugging at Bill's clothes and Bill obliges, undressing the rest of the way. They don't often do it this way – Bill naked, the two of them face to face. Bill likes to leave some clothes on. Maybe he can pretend that it's an accident that way – that it doesn't happen often enough to be called a habit. An addiction.

But Charlie's going to make Bill take him like this tonight. He throws his legs over his brother's shoulders and watches Bill mount him with that lip-bit look of concentration. Then he's pushing it in, and Charlie grits his teeth, and Bill's hair is swinging as he fucks, drifting over Charlie's chest, raising his nipples to the touch.

It feels bloody wonderful, and Charlie fights to not touch him when all he wants is to pull Bill close, to feel the muscles of his shoulders, the staccato of his breath. Instead he presses his palms flat to the wall and provides some resistance.

But after several blissful moment of wordless fucking, there's something else that Charlie wants and needs. He Summons one of Ginny's hair bands that are lying around everywhere in the house. Sure enough, one flies off his brothers' floor and into Charlie's hands. While Bill fucks him, Charlie smoothes his hair back off his face. Bill frowns, but he doesn't stop as Charlie binds his hair down tight near the nape of his neck gently. He lets his hands linger…lets them stroke along Bill's strong jaw. His thumb flicks the swinging fang. Charlie's about to come.

He uses Bill's shoulders and hauls himself up. He takes hold of the earring with his teeth and licks at the fang. He sighs, "I love this," and it makes his brother come. Bill convulses, bucking, and Charlie breathes in his ear. He whispers filthy and sweet things Bill will never remember. He licks the fang, the lobe, tasting metal and utter transcendence.

The way Bill's thrusting and grinding is rubbing Charlie's cock between them. It doesn't take much more, and Charlie explodes into light, whimpering and shuddering, and it's now that Bill's arms come around him and ease him through.

It's this part they'll both pretend to forget, Bill's cock slipping in and out and their breath shuddering hot, so close.

Then Charlie falls back into the bed, gasping and panting. Bill's breathing like a lathered race horse, leaning back, pulling his cock out slowly. Charlie's eyes roll back and he groans.

Bill cleans up and dresses while Charlie lies there naked and done.

After a few minutes, Bill nudges his leg with a foot. "You're helping me de-gnome in the morning."

"Yeah, all right."

That's it. Charlie's still naked, but Bill's his brother again.

They fall asleep in separate beds, and when Charlie wakes, Bill's nowhere to be seen.

They spend the break like this – back and forth, in each other's lives like brothers, in each other's beds like lovers. Bill hardly talks to him either way. He doesn't need to.

When he leaves, he hugs Charlie good-bye. He hugs him longer than the others, Charlie thinks. Then he stalks out into the lawn and Apparates away. It's later that day that Charlie finds it, in the pocket of his trousers. He pulls it out and stares at it glinting in his fingers. He blinks at it, his breath short. Then, guiltily, rejoicing a little, he pockets it once more. Every few hours, he'll wrap his hand around it and feel its smooth metal, its sharp tip, and he'll remember everything Bill is, everything he wants, everything he shouldn't. And it's enough.

 


End file.
